


Competition

by acciopotatoes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on prompts, F/M, for a birthday on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:06:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciopotatoes/pseuds/acciopotatoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for prongsvssquid's birthday on tumblr. Inspired by three prompts, all having to do with Jily's competitiveness. During seventh year at Hogwarts, during relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Competition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prongsvssquid](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=prongsvssquid).



_So this is for prongsvssquid's birthday! Happy birthday, dear! A few references in here to the url, and inspired by the prompt that I asked for. In return, I got back three. They're a bit out of order, but oh well. Jily, and their endless competitions._

It was early enough that the sky was still dark, and the morning of May 13th, 1977 might not be classified as a morning by most. Still, it was after midnight, so for accuracy's sake, it will be called morning. 

Most teenage humans, along with the majority of semi-sentient beings, do not like to be wakened at such an early hour, much less by such a loud thump on the floor. 

Sadly - for the sleep that could have been, anyway - this was exactly what woke up the occupants of the seventh-year boys' dormitory on that dark, early morning of May 13th, 1977. 

"What the hell-"

"Bloody-"

"How early is it?"

Remus, being the sort of person to notice things, was the first to pick up on the slight movement of the curtains around a certain friend's bed. Sirius was second to notice this, but first to notice the whispers behind said curtains.

"Sh, sh-" A familiar voice said, voice hushed, before giggling quietly.

A different-sounding laugh, before a whisper of "Quiet, they're probably already up."

"Quiet about what?" Sirius asked loudly. He thought he already had a bit of an idea...

"Lily? James?" Remus asked, catching on to Sirius's thought. 

"Wait, what's Lily doing up here?" Peter asked, confusion written across his face. Remus and Sirius let him figure it out. "Oh." Peter's face went bright red and he buried himself back into his blankets. Sirius laughed, and Remus smiled.

Still no answer from behind the curtains. Remus sighed jokingly. "We know you're back there." 

An answering sigh from what Remus assumed was Lily. Her reply confirmed the fact. "God, James, it's your fault."

"What? No, no, do not play the blame game with me, you were the one who fell off."

"You were the one who couldn't handle losing-"

"It's not my fault you're so competitive-"

"Shut it! You're _both_ competitive!" Sirius declared, a smirk firmly in place. 

"So you fell off? Because you were having a... _competition_." Remus concluded, choosing his words carefully. 

Silence.

"...Yeah," James admitted, before drawing the curtains back. Peter mumbled something into his pillow. 

"What was that?" Lily asked him.

"You only had the curtains closed that long so you could get dressed again, didn't you?" Peter said, only marginally louder. 

"Yeah," James said again. 

"Well, look at it this way, Prongs," Sirius began. Lily caught on and finished his sentence. "At least this isn't quite as embarrassing as that time when you challenged the squid to a duel."

"Ohmygod," James said, following Peter's example and shoving his face into his pillow. Remus laughed, and Lily joined in before jumping out of bed and leaving for her own dormitory. 

**********

Later, when the day was actually bright this time, and the sun causing that brightness was reflecting just so against the Great Lake, the N.E.W.T.s Transfiguration class was in session. Needless to say, this was to the great disappointment of the seventh-years enrolled in this class, as the day outside was clearly beautiful. 

This was especially disappointing for Lily Evans and her friends, who loved the sun. James Potter didn't mind, however; the sun did look nice in Lily's hair, but he wasn't too fond of the Great Lake. It was less to do with the fifth-year O.W.L.s incident and more to do with the giant squid and what James considered to be their rivalry. 

But James could see that Lily was wistfully looking out the window, and so set out to make her happier in her present location. Bumping up against her shoulder, he whispered, "Bet you I can take better notes."

Lily's head snapped up, like a dog catching a scent, as she fixed him with a playfully-dismissive glance. Looking down her nose and trying not to smile, but failing abysmally, she whispered back, "You? _Really_." 

He smirked and did that jaw-thing that Lily loved. "Yeah. _Really_." 

They both instantly looked down at their papers and started scribbling frantically. Handwriting got messier, abbreviations became more cryptic, and Lily almost knocked over her ink pot trying to save time and get down more information. 

Remus glanced over at them and smiled faintly. The day that Lily Evans and James Potter didn't compete over something was the day that the wizarding world would truly learn the meaning of fear. Sirius, meanwhile, scribbled something onto a bit of parchment and threw it at Peter's head. Peter read the note, glanced over at Lily and James, turned red, and crumpled up the parchment before staring determinedly at his quill. 

Sirius snickered. 

"You're cheating," James muttered. 

"Excuse me, Mr Cocky, but how does one cheat at note-taking?" Lily answered sweetly, still not taking her eyes off her parchment.

"You just glanced at my notes! You cheater!" James whispered in mock-outrage.

"I was not _cheating_ , I was _checking_ your _progress_ ," Lily said, enunciating her words more than usual.

She tried to quickly dip her quill again, but this time she only succeeded in knocking it over. Unlike last time, she couldn't catch it fast enough. The pot exploded on the floor, glass flying everywhere and ink splattering into the air. Before the projectiles could hit anything, however, they froze in midair. 

A seat over, Mary MacDonald whimpered slightly as a shard of glass hovered in front of her face. Blobs of dark blue ink floated near bags and parchment, narrowly avoiding disaster.

"Ms. Evans, if you could please be more careful in your quest to take well-written notes?" Professor McGonagall said dryly, wand in one hand and chalk in the other, lessons halted. 

Lily's face was the same dark red as her hair, James noted. 

"Y-yes, professor, sorry," she stuttered.

"Hm," McGonagall said stiffly, waving her wand once more. The ink collected itself and plopped into the newly-repaired pot. Mary MacDonald sighed in relief. The inkpot sat itself back onto Lily's desk, and lessons resumed. 

"Hey," James said softly, nudging her again. 

"Hey," Lily returned, a faint smile on her still-red face.

"I think we both know," James murmured, "that I clearly took the better notes."

**********

Now, the day was dark once more, in that odd hour of still-daytime-except-without-sun. This would be the third time Lily Evans and James Potter had a competition on May 13th, 1977.

The smell of smoke was everywhere as James stepped into the kitchens. House-elves ran around in circles, obviously horrified. "What happened?" James asked one of them. 

"Missus Evans is trying to bake," he whispered, eyes wide.

James tried not to laugh as he made his way over to the ovens, one of which had black smoke pouring out of it. Lily was standing in front of it, swearing and waving an oven mitt, trying to disperse the smoke. 

"What were you trying to make, had this poor attempt at baking turned out better?" James asked. Lily barely glanced at him before reaching into the oven and dumping the brown crispy mess into the nearby sink. "Brownies," she answered, her voice dull. 

"Well, why didn't you ask me?" James inquired jokingly. 

"What'd you mean?"

"It's quite clear," James declared, gesturing to the smoke around them, "that your baking skills..."

"What about my _baking skills_?" Lily said dangerously. Her gloved hands were on her hips and she turned to face him. His hand leapt to his hair. 

"Er, well, what I meant was -"

"What _I_ mean," Lily said, interrupting him, "is that I am a perfectly talented baker, thank you very much. I just happened to get distracted, that's all. Everyone who's ever had my brownies knows that I make the best ones. Ever." 

"No fucking way," James said confidently. "No offense, love, but I make the best baked goods."

"Have you ever even touched an oven?"

"Well, no," he admitted, "but how hard can it be, really?" 

"That's it, James Potter," Lily said loudly. "I challenge you to a bake-off!" 

Later, past curfew. Lily and James are stumbling out of the kitchens, holding pans upon pans of brownies, cookies, and cakes. Wizarding treats and Muggle, the aromas of which fill the halls. This same aroma will be what leads Filch and Ms. Norris to find them, laughing loudly and covered in flour, among other ingredients. Lily has smears of sticky sugar on her robes. James has egg in his hair. They are both happy, and for once, they are willing to agree that they both won. 

Particularly after that kiss while they were waiting for the brownies to cook. 


End file.
